


Not your Vhenan

by NoTomorrow



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward longing, Being a dork, Being a dork in front of crushes, Commander Cullen on his honeymoon, Crush at First Sight, Cullen's replacement, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lavellan being a little boy, Lavellan can't be helped, M/M, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, The substitute Commander has no idea, Unresolved Sexual Tension, what is even going on, you tell me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoTomorrow/pseuds/NoTomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Cullen has finally tied the knot with Trevelyan and they escaped on a honeymoon, leaving the inquisition without a Commander. Luckily, Cullen and his wife already sent for a replacement while they were away, and Lieutenant Helena got called in for the job. Kerlan Lavellan had been happy with his friends running of on their honeymoon, but he hadn't expected the new Commander to be so... interesting.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, his companions are set to make him look a fool in the presence of the new commander. Sera has the time of her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“My apologies Skeeter, but your admiration is showing.”

Only silence met Varric as Kerlan kept watching the woman on the other side of the camp, trying to be inconspicuous about it while rolling up his sleeping bag. Every five inches he rolled up further, his eyes would come up again, looking for the same person in the crowd, and following every movement with a slightly tilted smile stuck to his face.  
Varric smiled. This would look good in a book, actually. Camp discretions: The Inquisitor and the new commander. Yeah, that would look amazing. He would have to propose that to his editor some day.

“Uh, what?” The Inquisitor seemed to have returned to the mortal plane at last.

“Nothing, nothing. But you might want to check your drooling before she actually notices.”

Kerlan turned a deep shade of crimson, hand immediately going to the corner of his mouth, but coming up with nothing. He scowled at Varric with murderous intent, but it didn’t quite come over as intimidating with his face stuck on the colour of a freshly plucked tomato.  
Varric grinned as he walked away from the inquisitor. It was strange not having Curly around, but his replacement sure had made for quite a show. He wasn't normally for the "love at first sight" thing, but the way Kerlan looked at the new commander, there was no room for doubt.  
Maybe it was a good thing that Curly went on that honeymoon. 

Dorian looked at his friend, sighed, and put his wine glass down on top of the books he had stacked next to his beloved chair in the Skyhold library. There was no helping it, his friend was completely out of it. He came up beside him to lean on the railing, idly tracing a vein of wood. 

“You know…”

Kerlan sighed.  
“I know.”

“Then why?” he asked. “Why haven’t you asked her for a roll in your amazingly big bed yet?”

Kerlan turned as red as the tapestry on the wall behind them. He started wringing his fingers, avoiding Dorian’s gaze.  
“I just- Wait, how do you know how big my bed is?"

Dorian feigned innocence and held up his hands. "Hey, it wasn't me! Just a tip, though, you might run into one of Sera's pranks soon."  
He smiled at that. The last time, it had taken him a week to get the smell of cheese out of his quarters. How Sera did it, he would never know.

“But to come back to my initial curiosity - Something tells me you're not quite right in the head at the moment. It's not like you haven't had sex before. I clearly recall that buxom elven servant being quite sati-"  
“Dorian…” He inhaled and exhaled, preparing himself for telling someone of what it was exactly that he wanted. “That’s just not the way… not the way I- I mean, that's not-" He wringed his hands so hard they were starting to get a bit red. "I admire her. Can't I? Just that. Nothing more."

"Sure, and I'm positive Mother Giselle loves me." 

He deadpanned and made a sound of utter despair.   
"Creators, why are you so-"

"Charming? Alluring? Fantastic? I've heard it all before, inquisitor, keep your flatteries to yourself!"   
The cockiest grin spread across Dorian's face as he sad it, at last faking embarassment. Not very convincing for him.

"...I give up."

"No, no, no more beating around the bush. What's going on, exactly?" This time, he actually looked sincere. Honestly, not marred by pleasantries or a sly smile. Kerlan took a deep breath and decided that yes, he would just drop his pride and go for it.

"I never got to actually getting to know someone that I slept with, but she's... I just want to know more about her. How do you do that? How do you-"

“…woo someone?”

“…yes.” He admitted defeat, hanging his shoulders and no longer leaning on the rail.  
Dorian knew this had been coming all along. He had seen him watching her. Seen his eyes not stuck to her backside, but to her. He had a crush for probably the first time in his life, and there was nothing anyone could do. This, after everything he had gone through with the inquisition, this he had to do himself.

“Can’t help y-“

“What if she doesn’t like elves?” He cut in, worriedly. He had started to pace the path to the rail, the wall and back. “What if I’m too shy? Too short? Too-“  
“Kerlan!”   
He stopped pacing. 

“She’s in Cullen’s office. Ask her to have dinner tonight. Just ask her. Sure, you’re hardly as charmingly handsome as I am, but you’re not too bad to look at. If you don’t try…”  
He nodded vigorously. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could go over there.

“I… I will.”  
Dorian looked at him, still standing there, Kerlan looking like a nug that just got caught in the food cabinet. 

“Well? What are you still doing here?” Dorian made a shooing gesture, hoping he would leave already so he could enjoy another chapter of his book before the inquisitor came back without success because he probably wasn’t going to ask.  
—————————————————————  
She'd been living in Commander Cullen's quarters for a week now. Surprise wasn't really an emotion that came to her when she caught sight of the bad state the bedroom was in. Cullen and his wife had obviously packed in a hurry and left the mess for someone else to clean up. Were this the tent or the room of one of her recruits, she'd have him flayed alive, but she guessed that she couldn't really fault Cullen and Lea for this. They had actually left without telling anyone but Josephine about it just so no one could track them down for work. From what she'd heard, Lea, Cullen's wife, was a bit of a troublemaker and very, very impulsive. Fitting, since she'd always known him to be a little... well very uptight actually.  
For the third time that day, she looked up at the roof above her, to the stars that glittered in the deep blue air beyond. As much as she liked the view, the cold that accompanied it? Not so welcome.  
Actually, she had asked a recruit to get someone to fix the roof the second day she got here. Funny how that hadn't been fixed yet.   
Guess she had to do it herself.

While in the process of dragging the desk over beneath the hole, she heard the telltale sound of a door closing downstairs.   
"Uh... Lieuten- Co- Commander?" A very small voice called out to her.  
While she preferred just sticking out her head through the trapdoor and helping with whatever problem a recruit had now that way, she sighed internally and went the boring, old-fashioned way down the ladder. Sliding, that is. Couldn't take out all the fun.

"Yees? What can I do for you?" _What you could do for_ me _is fix that hole in the roof, but okay._ She turned around expectantly, waiting for the young recruit in front of her to speak.  
Sadly, the recruit looked a bit shell-shocked and gaped at her. Oh Maker, did she just come off as childish? Ugh, why did she even take the job, not like she, of all people, could take care of all-   
"Please, I- Excuse me, sir, I just... I'm not quite used to... someone so.."

"...not-Cullen?"   
She crossed her arms and looked her down, eyebrows raised in question. The young woman looked... caught. As if someone had interrupted her during cheating.

"...Relaxed?" The woman muttered.

She smiled in response, her lips stretching over her teeth as she chuckled.   
"Is that not the same thing?"

The recruit stammered and the blush that had been present initially deepened and spread to her ears.   
"What is it you wanted to ask me?"  
She started, eyes wide and sprung to attention at once. "I- I came to inform you that there will be a meeting with the other advisors within the hour."

"I knew this," she frowned, then one corner of her mouth tilted upwards in recognition. "Cullen made sure to check, didn't he?"

"N-No..."

"It's fine, it's fine, I know, he's an uptight little git at times. Thank you for telling me... again."

The recruit nodded and almost broke down the door to get outside as fast as she could, ears flaming red.  
"This is going to take some getting used to..."  
————————-  
The inquisitor planted his feet and swung his sword arm quick but recklessly into the side of the training dummy. He changed his footing and took a few swings swiping upwards, requiring more strength and less elegance, but that didn't help much either. He had been at it for hours - ever since he left Dorian, actually. After he left the rotunda, Vivienne got hold of him to tell him he really should think of the latest soiree at the Winter Palace soon. She had the fabric of the different outfits already sorted and was insistent on roping him down to take measurements. He was sure that if he kept brushing her off, her disdainful look would be the least of his worries.

Not that he had any time to think of ways to avoid the woman. In two days, he would be leaving for Denerim for a visit to the king and queen of Ferelden. Politics never ceased, and the time the inquisition had to spend on them only increased since Corypheus was killed. He wasn't fond of them and he never would, but he looked forward to meeting Queen Cousland and her husband. Of course, it was King Alistair that had the blood rights to the throne, as he had been told, but Queen Cousland had been a warden back in the day. They both had been, but Cousland had slain the archdemon and led thousands of people to the end of the war. She was famous, and even in the Lavellan clan, they had heard of her. 

Not that that those were his only worries. They had planned a trip to the Storm Coast to kill a dragon that had been sighted there, all for Bull. He wasn't scared, but he didn't necessarily like facing down those animals. Corypheus he could take, but a mouth he could fit in at least five times with razor sharp teeth? No, that wasn't his idea of fun.  
But it certainly had been for Bull. The Qunari had been dropping thinly-veiled "hints" while drinking and often mentioned his "flabby sword arm". Hard to believe for Kerlan, but Dorian had caved and begged him to take the Bull to kill the dragon. Not only because Bull was driving him mad, but apparently, the sex was, in Dorian's words, absolutely phenomenal. Something he preferred to cipher out of his mind.

He kept going at the dummy, trying to keep his mind off all the worry lately, but that amounted to nothing either when he saw Lieutenant Helena walking over the battlements towards the door to the rotunda mid-swing. His blade missed his target and, as per the rules of gravity, the momentum of his blade and his lack of functioning limbs, his body hit the dummy side-on as his sword flew from his grasp and clattered a bit further away. He scrambled upright and tried to look for her, but she had disappeared into the building. This... infatuation would certainly be the death of him.


	2. Idiots are meant for greater things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idiot by chance and an idiot by making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every sunday.

Sera strolled in very late into the evening. She would never miss a game of Wicked Grace - she must've gotten held up with another prank or two.

"I make it a point never to beg... but Ruffles, please, stop taking my money!" Varric exlaimed, sounding absolutely exhausted.

"As I've told you before, _never_ bet against an Antivan." The diplomat said with a smug grin tilting up the corners of her mouth, looking every bit as regal as she probably felt. She earned that. Creators, could she play.

Varric chuckled and folded. He wasn't planning on losing any more money on a lost cause. Sera thudded into his chair and made every worried face on the table look up at her. Kerlan glanced at Dorian - did he look especially excited at the sight of Sera, or was that his imagination?

"Are ya losing bad, dwarf?" She pouted from behind him, making a show of pity. She rested her head in her hands as her elbows leaned on the back of his chair.

"Buttercup, I never lose. I just have minor setbacks." He patted her hand and looked determined, staring at Josephine across the table. She challenged him right back and laughed, making Blackwall fidget with his cards.

Kerlan smiled at his companions having a good time after all this political business. He did, however, still have a lot of work to do before he could leave for Denerim, so he paid for one more round of drinks, then bid his goodbyes.

Sera should _not_ look as giddy as she was looking right then.

—---------

He had been absolutely right. He should have seen this coming.

But he hadn't.

The moment he entered his quarters and walked up the stairs, he knew there was something missing. Everything was absolutely immaculate - and that was what alerted him in the first place. His half-made bag with supplies and clothes that had been sitting on the trunk at the back of his bed was gone, and so were his sheets. The clothes that he was planning to put into the bag before he got called away were no longer strewn around the floor, they were simply... gone.

Sighing, wondering what she had done now, he walked further into the room, passing by his couch and stopping as his gaze rested on a little torn-off piece of paper that sat on his desk. Of course she would have.

He picked up the paper and deciphered the crude writing on it.

"Told the elfy girl that cleans yer rooms that you were gonna sleep with our new cully-wully t'night, go find yer stuff!"

Alongside it was a crude drawing of a bed and... well.

It's not like he _wasn't_ imagining it, because he was. Sera always had a flair for the dramatics, though.

He didn't appreciate that particular trait tonight, however. He really did not want to get his clothes at that moment.

But he couldn't do otherwise, because a) he could either go now at midnight or b) he could go get them at first light.

Either of those choices involved probably waking the new commander, and he deemed it better to happen sooner rather than later. That way, he had more time to get over the trauma. He didn't even know her that well, what if she kept working like Cullen, and she saw him?

But what if she _didn't_ , and she was as fervent as Bull to fend off unwelcome visitors? He didn't want to run into the pointy end of that blade again. What if he woke her?

He took a deep, deep breath, and braced himself. Don't look like a fool, please don't look like a fool,...

——————-

She ordered the new requisitions on her desk, noticing that it wobbled a little as she turned to sit. She wouldn't be all that surprised if Cullen had made... inappropriate use of the desk. The thing _really_ wobbled. Not that she'd fault him. Lea was quite attractive, and the way she would stand innocently to the side at previous meetings with the commander with her present even made her gulp.  
She went to examine the desk by getting down on all fours and crawling underneath it. There must be something broken, or just something... and then she saw a little block of wood wedged under a foot. Nothing broken, then. She had no idea who would want to prank her, but she chuckled. The idea of Cullen actually getting steamy on his desk was too much to assume after all from the buttoned-up commander. Even with the steamy looks he was getting. She rolled to her side on the floor to pull at the little wedge underneath the table foot, but she pulled too hard, because when it shot free, she almost hit herself in the face with it and had missed her nose by a hair. Huffing at her own stupidity, she lay under the desk, running a hand over her face.

That's when the door to the office creaked open, naturally. Helena shot upright, momentarily forgetting that she was actually under a table and hit her nose on the side.

Judging by the warm liquid that slipped between her fingers when she held them to her nose, she figured she hadn't come out unscathed. Maker, she needed a drink. She hadn't met everyone yet, but she was sure some of the regulars would have something strong stashed in their closets. If she ever got her nose to stop bleeding all over her newly fitted armour, she'd make her way to the tavern straight away. Commanders needed to socialize, too.

A masculine, soft voice got her out of her reverie to stare up from down under her desk, crawling away from the edge as she held her nose running with blood. Now that's a conversation starter.

"Is there anyone..." he caught sight of her on the floor, "...here." His face fell comically. She almost snorted. Almost.

Only that would've meant she'd probably snort her blood at her visitor, so no. _Way to impress everyone._

A few strands slipped free from the messy bundle of hair on top of her head, obviously making her look even more incompetent. If only she hadn't owed Cullen that favour, she would have been home now, drilling a few templars on their awful footing, and not here, being stared down by a very shocked elf.

She grunted, taking her hand away bloodied and standing up to reach for anything to dab away at all the blood. When she found nothing, she tried sniffing and turned back to the...

Realization dawned as she took in his Dalish markings and the sharp eyes. Slightly tilted up and a very bright green, as she remembered them. She could scarcely remember him from their first meeting the day before, but she did, nonetheless.

Oh maker.

"Ah, I-I'm sorry, inquisitor, I was just..." she mentioned at the table with her hands, trying to convey her meaning without having to speak too much.

She would love to sink into the ground right about now.

Maker's tits, she would dig a little grave just for herself and lay down, asking someone to bury her fast.

"That, ah... that would have been courtesy of Sera." He spoke, then walked forwards to pick up the little block that had been wedged under the desk. He resolutely avoided her gaze, she noticed. She must have made quite the fool of herself for the inquisitor himself to not want to look at her. Maker.

"Sera?"

He looked up, narrowly avoiding looking straight into her eyes. "Our resident blonde elf, you know, the one that you saw, uh... fight with Vivienne this morning? She... ah. She plays pranks. A lot." His voice trailed off into a near-whisper.

She really hadn't expected the inquisitor to be so timid. He wasn't timid at all at the war table meetings, so why would he be now? Was he the one to get hit in the head not five minutes ago instead of her?

"It's, ah, it's quite alright. You probably didn't expect to see, well, this when you entered the office." She pointed at her nose, the last of the blood dripping down her lips to her chin. She must have looked very professional right then.

_Shit, you're such a twat, Helena. He's your employer and you're bleeding all over._

"Um. Don't worry, I suppose you weren't expecting to see anyone else this late, either."

"Work never ceases here, so I don't mind. I just hope I won't end up as Cullen." She touched her nose gingerly, trying to figure out if it was broken or just bruised.

When the inquisitor just stared, looking very interested in the little block in his hands and determined to not give her a glance, she sunk a little further.

"I... was there something you wanted, specifically, inquisitor? Not to be rude, but I really need to get this blood cleaned up." She smiled apologetically, her smile probably marred by the blood.

He stood up straight, much like one of her recruits would. "It's quite embarassing, but yes." He fiddled with his fingers as she waited patiently for his explanation. "You see, Sera sort of... stashed my supplies for tomorrow with you. Your office, I-I mean..."

She placed a hand on her hip and looked a him questioningly. "Why on Thedas would she do that?"

At that, the inquisitor - she really had to ask for his name, she had never been good at linking people to their titles. People were more than that. - sported a very, very red pair of ears.

"She-she said I should get to know you better. You know, uh. By stashing my clothes in your bedroom."

That was the worst strung sentence she had ever heard meaning-wise.

Not that she cared.

"Interesting way to _get to know_ each other. I do recommend just asking me for drinks in the tavern, though." She chuckled. She decided she didn't really mind the prank. Why would she, anyway?

"I would like that." The first time he hadn't stuttered, and he sounded enthousiastic, of all things. His eyes flicked to hers for a moment, then rested on a place halfway to the ground.

Helena smiled in response, letting her shoulders sag from the tension leaving her. She remembered an overly stuffed bag that had been very out of place in her now decent looking room. It had sat near the ladder, probably within reach if she climbed it.

"Were your supplies in a very big bag? If so, I'll go get them for you."

He smiled softly, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly more on one side.

"Thank you. I won't bother you further, ah - after this."

"No harm done!" She called behind her as she climbed the ladder and reached for the bag to pull it towards her, still standing on the ladder. Hefty bag for a trip to Denerim. She took it down with her and instead of plopping it at his feet, offered it to him.

"Here you go. I might be being rude again, but, are you taking all that to Denerim?"

"No, no. I'm sure she just stuffed it with every piece of clothing or supply she could find just to make it harder to retrieve."

An image flashed in her head of a blonde elf with short hair and a inebriated smile on her face as she sang with the chargers in the tavern a few nights back. She vaguely recalled the Iron Bull calling her Sera, indeed.

"This troublemaker wouldn't be a woman with a very small stomach for alcohol, would it? With the tendency to sing off-key raunchy songs?"

He looked like a deer in the headlights. His eyes the size of saucers. What, couldn't people wind off in a tavern?

Cullen really had the commander thing down to an art, hadn't he.

The inquisitor paused for a moment, taking over the bag and slightly turning away.

"I - I'll put this thing away, then." He waved the little block in his hand. "And - Get a good night's rest. Don't be like Cullen. Or, well, you should be. He's a good commander. Not that you're not, I mean, you should be, oh that didn't come out right, uh..."

She frowned.

He looked as if she'd kicked him in the guts.

And then he ran out the door with a whispered, silent goodbye.

"You're so good at impressing your employer, Lena." she muttered to herself as she turned back around to her desk.

She'd even forgotten to ask for his name.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where I'll go with this, as this started as just a fifty word drabble.   
> Because our dear Cullen really needs some unwinding and cocky elves sometimes need a kick in the bum.


End file.
